Letter 8: Niceas, the subdeacon, had accompanied Jerome to the East but had now returned home. In after-years he became bishop of Aquileia in succession to Chromatius. The date of the letter is 374 A.D.

Letter 8: To Niceas, Sub-Deacon of Aquileia (374 AD) [Niceas had accompanied Jerome to the East but returned home. He later became bishop of Aquileia. This is a light, playful scolding of a friend who won't write back.] The comic poet Turpilius [a 2nd-century BC Roman playwright] says that the exchange of letters is the only thing that makes absent people present. The remark comes from a work of fiction, but it's no less true for that. For what closer thing to real presence can there be between friends who are apart than speaking to those they love in letters, and hearing their replies in letters? Even those Italian savages, the Cascans that Ennius describes [an ancient pre-Roman people] — who, as Cicero tells us in his books on rhetoric, hunted their food like wild beasts — used to exchange letters written on roughly planed wooden tablets or strips of bark peeled from trees, back before paper and parchment existed. (That's why letter-carriers were called 'tablet-bearers' and writers were called 'bark-users.') If those near-animals managed to keep up a correspondence, how much more are we, who live in a civilized age, obligated not to neglect a social courtesy that was practiced by people living in utter savagery? Look — the saintly Chromatius and the reverend Eusebius, brothers as much by temperament as by blood, have shamed me into diligence with the shower of letters they've sent. But you, who only just left me, haven't merely loosened our newly formed friendship — you've ripped it apart. And Laelius, in Cicero's dialogue [De Amicitia, 'On Friendship'], specifically warns against that. Can it be that the East is so hateful to you that you can't bear even your letters to travel here? Wake up! Wake up! Rouse yourself from sleep and give affection at least one sheet of paper. In the midst of your comfortable life at home, spare an occasional sigh for the journeys we took together. If you love me, write because I asked. If you're angry with me, write because you're angry. Either way, write. My lonely heart finds tremendous comfort in receiving a letter from a friend — even a friend who's furious with me.

To Niceas, Sub-Deacon of Aquileia Niceas, the subdeacon, had accompanied Jerome to the East but had now returned home. In after-years he became bishop of Aquileia in succession to Chromatius. The date of the letter is 374 A.D. The comic poet Turpilius says of the exchange of letters that it alone makes the absent present. The remark, though occurring in a work of fiction, is not untrue. For what more real presence — if I may so speak — can there be between absent friends than speaking to those whom they love in letters, and in letters hearing their reply? Even those Italian savages, the Cascans of Ennius, who — as Cicero tells us in his books on rhetoric — hunted their food like beasts of prey, were wont, before paper and parchment came into use, to exchange letters written on tablets of wood roughly planed, or on strips of bark torn from the trees. For this reason men called letter-carriers tablet-bearers, and letter-writers bark-users, because they used the bark of trees. How much more then are we, who live in a civilized age, bound not to omit a social duty performed by men who lived in a state of gross savagery, and were in some respects entirely ignorant of the refinements of life. The saintly Chromatius, look you, and the reverend Eusebius, brothers as much by compatibility of disposition as by the ties of nature, have challenged me to diligence by the letters which they have showered upon me. You, however, who have but just left me, have not merely unknit our new-made friendship; you have torn it asunder — a process which Lælius, in Cicero's treatise, wisely forbids. Can it be that the East is so hateful to you that you dread the thought of even your letters coming hither? Wake up, wake up, arouse yourself from sleep, give to affection at least one sheet of paper. Amid the pleasures of life at home sometimes heave a sigh over the journeys which we have made together. If you love me, write in answer to my prayer. If you are angry with me, though angry still write. I find my longing soul much comforted when I receive a letter from a friend, even though that friend be out of temper with me. About this page Source. Translated by W.H. Fremantle, G. Lewis and W.G. Martley. From Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, Vol. 6. Edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace. (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1893.) Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight. <https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/3001008.htm>. Contact information. The editor of New Advent is Kevin Knight. My email address is feedback732 at newadvent.org. (To help fight spam, this address might change occasionally.) Regrettably, I can't reply to every letter, but I greatly appreciate your feedback — especially notifications about typographical errors and inappropriate ads.